A Boy Who Loves You
by Lady Bordeaux
Summary: "Well, you know what they say. The only thing worse than a boy who hates you is a boy who loves you." "Potter doesn't love me, Mum. What he loves is driving me crazy!" The evolution of Lily and James, as seen through the eyes of Mrs. Evans.


"Well, you know what they say. The only thing worse than a boy who hates you is a boy who loves you."

Lily Evans let out a loud scoff, falling backwards onto the carpeted floor of her living room. "Potter doesn't _love_ me, Mum. What he loves is driving me crazy!" She'd just spent what must've been twenty minutes ranting, with no room for reply, about that insufferable, arrogant prat. And now her mother was insisting that the motivation behind his annoying tendencies was a crush. On her! _Please! _The eleven year-old witch considered herself a girl of at least some intelligence, and was smart enough to know that when a boy goes out of his way to trip you, push your books out of your arms, and make sick jokes about your friends, it usually meant that he held a good amount of dislike towards you.

No, James Potter didn't even remotely like her, let alone _love _her. What a disgusting thought.

Mrs. Evans hid a smile behind her novel.

* * *

><p>"Mum, you've lost your mind!"<p>

After recounting the going-on's and mishaps of her second year at Hogwarts - not excluding her daily run-ins with Potter - Lily's mother had given her a small, knowing smile before pondering out loud, "I wonder when he'll try to ask you out on a date."

As one might expect, Lily had thrown her hands up into the air dramatically before uttering the exasperated quote above. Mrs. Evans simply watched amusedly as her youngest daughter began to "rebuke" her for her crazy theories, consisting of vehement lines such as, but not limited to:

"I wonder for you sometimes."

"Why do you keep saying these things?

"I'm only twelve, anyway!"

_Oh!_ And her personal favorite: "I'm telling you, Mum, you're going to regret ever encouraging this. One of these days I'm going to come home and tell you that yes, Potter did ask me out, and yes, I agreed. And you know what you'll do? You'll lose your marbles, that's what! You'll start lecturing me on how I'm much too young to be in a relationship, and you'll tell Dad, and _he'll _freak out, and everything will be a big mess and you'll think back to this very moment and wish you had listened to me!"

With that heated conclusion, the young red-head stalked off to her room, muttering grievances under breath.

Mrs. Evans sighed lightly and settled down into a chair. _That poor Potter boy. He has quite the firecracker to deal with_.

* * *

><p>"Perhaps he was simply embarrassed."<p>

Lily, seated comfortably on the couch with a book resting on her lap, shot her mother a bewildered look. "What?" she asked, her tone wary. _I don't like where this is going_.

"Well," Mrs. Evans began, avoiding her daughter's suspicious eyes, "he had just failed to perform a spell in an area that he normally excels." She gave a small shrug. "He was most likely embarrassed about messing up in front of the girl he likes."

Lily's emerald eyes narrowed, and Mrs. Evans braced herself for another one of her daughter's rants. To her surprise, however, the young witch replied, her voice surprisingly calm, "We've gone over this _five hundred times_, Mum. I'm not going to make it five hundred and one." She let out a deep, self-calming breath. "It just makes me frustrated. I was just trying to help him and he shot me down. He insulted me in front of the entire class!"

Mrs. Evans got up from her position in her chair and sat down the couch next to her. Laying a hand on the redhead's shoulder, she said softly, "I know, sweetheart. What James did was rude." She brushed dark strand of hair away from Lily's face. "People can be cruel sometimes."

Lily nodded, casting her gaze forlornly onto the floor.

"Especially when they like you."

"_Mum!_"

* * *

><p><strong><em>1. What was the main cause of the Goblin Revolution of 1654?<em>**

_The main cause-_

"I'm surprised you haven't mentioned the Potter boy."

Lily Evans looked up from her History of Magic homework, her quill stopping momentarily as she stared at her mother with an expression of slight annoyance. "You know, Mum, as shocking as this may be, my life at Hogwarts doesn't revolve around James Potter. We don't spend _all _our time arguing with each other." She glanced back down at her parchment before adding, under her breath, "Just about seventy percent of it."

Mrs. Evans, upon hearing Lily's irritated mutter, raised an eyebrow. "Has anything changed between you?" she asked, her voice layered with feigned innocence. She watched in curiosity as her daughter pulled her work closer to her and dropped her head lower, quill scratching furiously.

"No, Mum. Nothing has changed." Her tone, however, lacked the conviction that Mrs. Evans usually associated with the fourteen year-old. She stared at her suspiciously for a few moments, studying the way she had dived into her homework, trying to block out everything around her.

Turning her eyes back to the TV program she was watching, she asked, a grin in her voice, "He asked you out, didn't he?"

There was the sound of a book being slammed shut and papers being hastily stuffed into a folder. Mrs. Evans looked away from the television and watched in surprise as her daughter hopped up from the couch and hurried out of the room, saying, "Forget it, Mum."

Lily hated the way her mother was always right.

It was the summer after her fifth year that Mrs. Evans hated it, too.

* * *

><p>It was by far the loneliest summer Mrs. Evans had experienced since Lily was born.<p>

Petunia was often with her friends and her husband was working extra hours to pay off a family vacation they'd taken the year before.

And Lily? Lily hardly came out of her room. She locked herself up for hours until dinner, working on homework, reading, and sleeping. She only came out to use the bathroom, take showers, and eat. And when she did come out, she barely spoke a word.

Mrs. Evans spent her days doing household work, reading, and worrying.

Worrying, most of all.

She'd tried to coax her daughter out of her room on multiple occasions, receiving only yells or, worse, emotionless mutters that left Mrs. Evans more anxious than before. She was concerned for Lily's well-being - no, she was _beyond _concerned. It was time for action.

So, on a particularly hot day in mid-July, she summoned all her courage and ascended the stairs to her daughter's bedroom, fists clenched in anticipation. She didn't bother to knock. Being kind and gentle wasn't working. There was only one option left: force.

She took a deep, long breath, and opened the door.

What she saw nearly broke her heart in two.

Lily was sitting cross-legged on her bed, her red hair in disarray, her clothes wrinkled. She was clutching a crumpled picture in her hand, tears streaming freely down her cheeks. Her free hand covered her mouth and her bloodshot emerald eyes stared at the photo with such sadness, such longing, that Mrs. Evans felt her chest clench up. Slowly and quietly, she made her way towards her daughter's bed and sat down next to the her.

The picture was simple. It wasn't even moving, like most wizarding photos. It was a single moment, captured in time by a muggle camera. Lily was sprawled out below a tree, books and parchment strewn around her. She was staring at the camera in shock, the perfect picture of surprise at being photographed without having been forewarned. Seated next to her was Severus Snape, her friend who lived at Spinner's End. He used to come by years before, and Mrs. Evans knew he also attended Hogwarts.

"It's the only picture I have of him."

Mrs. Evans jumped slightly at the sound of her daughter's voice. It was a sad sound - hoarse and sorrowful, with a hint of nostalgia.

"It was taken by some muggle-born Ravenclaw," Lily continued, her eyes never leaving the picture. "He was screwing around and taking pictures of a bunch of people. I didn't have any pictures of Severus at the time, so later on I asked him if he could develop it for me." She grasped the photo even tighter, as if it might slip out of her hands if she loosened her grip.

There was a long moment of silence in which Mrs. Evans simply watched her daughter stare. She marveled at how such a small, unadorned item could cause such sadness with a fifteen year-old girl. "Lily, what happened this year?" She rested her hand gently on the girl's head, smoothing down her auburn locks. "You can tell me."

She did.

And as she told the tale, her eyes never left the photograph. Perhaps it would've been easier for her is she had. Perhaps looking away would have taken some of the pain out of the story.

Lily, however, had never been one to take the easy way out.

After she had finished speaking, she managed to tear her eyes away from the photo for one moment. "Am I a bad person, Mum? For what I did to Severus?" She gazed up at her mother with an expression of such innocent fear that Mrs. Evans thought for a second that her teenage daughter had somehow been whisked away and replaced with the unsure eleven year-old she used to be.

Mrs. Evans couldn't help it; she gathered Lily up into her arms and replied softly, "Lily, what you did does _not _make you a bad person. In fact, I think it makes you a good one. Now that Severus knows you're unwilling to put up with this..._new person _he's trying to be, now that he's lost you...I have no doubt that he'll change his ways completely. He'll want you back as a friend. I know it."

Mrs. Evans felt her daughter nod, and pulled back, holding her at arms length. "You'll be all right, Lily." She smiled. "You always are."

When she had gotten up to leave and was pulling the door closed, she heard Lily say, "You were right, Mum. About Potter."

Mrs. Evans shut the door.

No other words were needed.

* * *

><p>In the summer after Lily's sixth year, her aura was significantly less melancholy. The sixteen year-old came home with the same amount of homework (if not <em>more<em>) as the year before, but with a much more positive attitude.

She was always telling Mrs. Evans about Mary McDonald, a fellow Gryffindor Lily had gotten to know better. "She's a bit crazy," she said one day, "but it's nothing I can't handle."

Mrs. Evans had chuckled. _If the Potter boy is anything like you say he is, I'm sure you can handle anything. _

She managed to refrain from inquiring about the infamous James Potter for weeks, nodding along as Lily spoke about her new classes and her Hogsmeade trips. She didn't want her daughter to get irritated and storm off as she had in the past. One day, however, while Lily was baking cupcakes in the kitchen, the curious woman finally asked, "So, how was James this year?"

Lily paused in her stirring before shrugging and turning around to pour the batter into a large bowl. "Fine, I guess."

Mrs. Evan shot her daughter an utterly confused look. "_Fine_? What do you mean by 'fine'?" For the past six years, whenever she'd asked about James, Lily had always shown some obvious sign of irritation, such as narrowed eyes, snapped quills, or spoken monologues listing the reasons why she wished James Potter would fall off the face of the Earth.

'Fine'? That was unusual.

Lily was silent for a few minutes; Mrs. Evans almost thought that her daughter hadn't heard her remark. Finally, however, she replied, "I don't know. He was still annoying and rude, just...less so, I suppose." She began pouring the batter into the cupcake pan, her expression somewhat detached. "And when it comes to James, less is always a good thing."

Mrs. Evans wasn't so sure.

* * *

><p>"Home sweet home!"<p>

Lily dropped her trunk, letting it land with a loud _thunk_, before entering the kitchen and grabbing an apple out of a cupboard. "I'm famished," she said as an explanation when she caught sight of her mother's raised eyebrow. She hopped up on the counter, kicked her shoes off, and began munching happily, staring out the window.

Mrs. Evans smirked at her daughter's spirited actions. "Well, aren't you cheerful?" She leaned against the doorframe of the kitchen entrance, arms crossed. "I hope this means you had a good last year."

Lily grinned, and, to her mother's astonishment, blushed. "Fantastic, actually."

When she didn't say anything more, Mrs. Evans sighed in exasperation. "_Well_? Care to elaborate on what made this year so _fantastic_?"

The redhead shrugged before jumping down from the counter and smiling sheepishly. "Wouldn't you like to know?" She tossed her apple core in the rubbish bin, washed her hands, and sat herself down on a stool.

"Yes, in fact, I would."

"Well," Lily began, "I made some new friends, got good grades, aced all my tests..."

"What about that Potter boy? Did he give you any trouble?"

Lily's grin widened. "Actually, he's coming over for dinner on Friday, if you don't mind."

Silence.

"_What_?"

Lily smiled even more at her mother's shocked expression. "Told you so, Mum. Told. You. So." And with that, the seventeen year-old sped off to her room, laughing all the way.

Mrs. Evans shook her head.

She _was _always right, wasn't she?

* * *

><p><strong>Done for "The Book Thief Challenge."<strong>

**So, this was my first try at 3rd person omniscient. I hope it was decent. ****Out of curiosity, did anyone catch the "Smallville" reference?**

_**Please review! It means a lot. Constructive Crit. is adored!**_


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